


The Boy

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 11:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" [...] The boy. You've always called him that, even though he's far from being a boy anymore.<br/>Truth is, he never really was one.<br/>He grew up too fast, as they say.<br/>Learned to live the hard way. [...] "</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy

It's warm, tonight.  
It's always warm, you think.  
But tonight the air bits into your skin differently: it's wet and slimy and uncomfortable, and you find it hard to sleep.  
So you open your eyes, and all you see is darkness, and the contours of your shabby room traced by quiet moonlight, a single window, open.  
The city screams outside.  
You turn around. The boy's asleep: brow furrowed, jaw clenched, he whimpers, trapped in nightmares and his past.  
 _The boy_. You've always called him that, even though he's far from being a boy anymore.  
Truth is, he never really was a one.  
He grew up too fast, as they say.  
Learned to live the hard way.  
You smile at him, you watch him.  
Sometimes you like to tell yourself you watch _over_ him, but he's far too arrogant and proud to admit needing your help, your guidance.  
Sometimes, even your love.  
He's sprawled onto the bed, neck slightly bended to the side. Your teeth marks are still there, red and deep.  
But he likes it that way. Truth be told, you like it too.  
And the boy sleeps, and he hates it when you call him "boy". He snaps and snarls and nips at you, and you laugh and he tells you to shut up. And then he goes shady again, and pulls up his collar, or lights a cigarette.  
He's a quiet one, but you've never really minded his silence. Even though sometimes it goes on for days, and it gets maddening. And when you ask clarification about this, because maybe you've done something wrong, he shakes his head and hisses something.  
Usually it goes along the lines of:

"There's no need to yak all the goddamn time. I was thinking."

He thinks. That's what he does. When you're not out working.  
When he's not washing blood off his hands. When he's not torturing.  
He does the dirty work.   
You sit back and ask the questions later. Sometimes you need to lay a hand in, sometimes he brings it too far, and then it's over, they're nothing but a semi-conscious, immoble pile of flesh. Hardly recognizable, hardly useful.  
You know it brings him pleasure, but you certainly don't want to know what's brought him to this, why he shudders and yelps every time you comply after he begs you to whip him, to burn him, every time he begs for cuts and bights and slaps.  
Sometimes it brings you solace to think he feels guilty about the pain he inflicts to others. Sometimes it brings you dark, twisted solace to know that maybe, just maybe, Spades Slick is capable of feeling remorse.  
Sometimes you wonder what you've fallen in love with, what burning, mad world lives behind that eye, what burning, mad world throbs behind the scar that marks his face, the scar you so love to lick and kiss.  
But for now, you just watch him sleep, and trace his thin, bony hips with the palm of your hands, go upwards until you delicately place them on his chest.  
It rises and falls with every breath, and you can't help but press your lips where his neck meets the shoulder, where you can feel his heart beating through the skin.  
He stirs awake long enough to see you, long enough to place a hand on the top of your head, and he slips back into slumber as his fingers tangle with your salt and pepper hair, a rare and precious moment of kindness.  
You sigh to yourself as the heat makes your bodies stick to eachother, not unpleasantly.

  
Rest your mind for a while, Diamonds Droog.  
Rest your mind, close your eyes.

Outside, the city screams.

 

**Author's Note:**

> An AU story in which Diamonds and Spades are more or less twenty years apart.  
> Also, my first Homestuck fic I've had the guts to post U__U


End file.
